


Not Even Close

by magicandlight



Series: The States [28]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Cordelia is a space nerd, Denial, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-30
Updated: 2018-03-15
Packaged: 2019-02-24 01:24:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 10,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13202721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magicandlight/pseuds/magicandlight
Summary: "Could you possibly pretend we're going out until this whole thing blows over?""What?"("But mostly I hate the way I don't hate you. Not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all." -10 Things I Hate About You)





	1. Spring, 1986

It begins with Cassidy and her commentary on Cordelia's love life.

"All I'm saying is-"

"Cass. I'm not sexually frustrated."

Cass rolls her eyes and continues her sentence. "You're love-starved."

Cordelia stares at her blankly. "...I have never regretted that one time I dropped you on your head when you were a baby more."

"Okay, wow, that was uncalled for."

"You know what else is uncalled for? You butting into my love life."

"What love life? All I see is a failed relationship and a string of random hookups."

"Honey, when you use sarcasm it's like when one of those little yip-yip dogs growls at a Great Dane. Ineffective and lacking the proper bite."

><><><><><><><

Meanwhile, across state lines, a very similar conversation is happening.

"I'm not lonely, Riley. Pass me that wrench."

Riley hands it to Michael, who mutters a thanks and sets to adjusting some part of the engine.

"I don't think sleeping with pretty customers counts as a relationship."

"And what would you know about relationships?"

"More than you."

"Fair."

><><><><><><><

Davy sits down across from her during the lunch break of the next meeting. "Why has Cass been extolling your virtues to me the entire meeting?"

Cordelia blinks. That was a good question. She didn't have a thing for Davy, and while they had been on better terms since Afghanistan- oh.

Cordelia's head meets the table with a thump.

"Hey, you alright?" Davy asks.

"Cass has got it into her head that I'm romantically-frustrated."

Davy's eyebrows raise. "Ah. And how do I fit in, exactly?"

Cordelia raised her head and gave him a look.

"Oh.  _Oh._  Uh, no, you're pretty and all, but I'm not really into pretty girls that tried to bash my brains out with a frying pan, so-"

"Chill. I wasn't asking you out."

"Oh, okay, that's... that's good."

><><><><><><><

It takes a setup with Helena (And what the hell was Cass thinking? Both Helena and Cordelia are straight.) for Cordelia to resort to drastic measures.

><><><><><><><

Drastic measures involved meeting Michael in a coffee shop one Saturday.

"I'm gonna ask you something incredibly crazy."

Michael looks almost amused. "Shoot."

"Our demon siblings keep trying to set me up because they think I'm romance-starved and the only way to get them to stop, apparently, is to get, well, romantically involved with someone."

Michael blinks. "Oh, so they did that to you too."

"Yea- wait, what?"

"I mean, I wondered why Riley kept shoving Hadley at me, and what the hell that whole conversation about me "lacking relationships of value" was. Anyways, what were you going to ask me?"

"Could you possibly pretend we're going out until this whole thing blows over?"

" _What?_ "

Cordelia rubs her face. "Okay, look, we both know how stubborn Cass and Riley are on their own. And we know how much worse they are when they're combined. Somehow they got it into their heads that we were lonely or something, and they're determined to find a significant other for us. Now, I have no desire to deal with a relationship or any of this matchmaking junk, and I bet you feel the same way. If we were to fake a relationship, it would get them off our backs, and we could stage a dramatic breakup at some point afterward."

Michael appeared to be thinking it over. "And after our dramatic breakup, we could just say we weren't ready for another relationship yet. This could last us the next half-century, at least."

Cordelia smiles. "Exactly! Deal?" She extended her hand across the table.

Michael grinned back and shook her hand. "Deal."

><><><><><><><

They both agree it'll look suspicious if they just come out and say  _oh, yeah, we're dating_.

They need it to look real.

They need to get  _caught_.

><><><><><><><

They meet during the intermission of the next state of the union meeting in one of the hallways.

Not the main one- that one would look too planned. One of the lesser used ones, though it was obvious at least one state would come that way.

If he didn't know better, Michael would say Cordelia looked nervous. "You think this is gonna work?"

The trace of nervousness is wiped off her face as she huffs. "Absolutely."

><><><><><><><

 _It has to look real_ , Cordelia reminds herself.

She kisses him, fingers tangling in his dirty-blonde hair.

And there's a moment when Michael remains still and she's sure he's about to call the whole plan off.

But then he's kissing her back, arms around her waist and pressing her back until her shoulder blades make contact with the wall.

Cordelia doesn't think they'll have a problem making it look real anymore.

><><><><><><><

Mindy's jaw drops, hand coming up over her mouth as she turns tail and hurries away.

She runs right into Ty at the entrance and grabs his arm. "Don't go that way."

Ty looks at her oddly. "Why?"

"Did you know about Corey and Mikey?"

"Know what?"

"About whatever's going on between them?"

"What, did they have another fight? Man, they always get really pissy after they fight and then they take it out on everyone. Was it about the Toledo Strip again? 'Cause Al said they needed to get over that already-"

"No, about them being together- or- or whatever they are."

Ty freezes in the middle of a sentence. " _What?_ Okay, who the hell spread that around? They're both going to be soo mad."

"No one spread it around. But considering the fact that they're all over each other back there, someone will."

Ty fixes her with a blank look. "Alright, little sister, who put you up to this."

"If you don't believe me, then come on."

><><><><><><><

Ty paces back and forth. "I feel like my entire childhood was a lie."

Mindy rolls her eyes.

"But they hate each other? Right? Right?"

"I think you should sit down before we find out if states can have heart attacks."

"Right. Right. That's a good idea, Minnie."

There's the sound of approaching footsteps, and then Cass is appearing, practically dragging Riley along.

Ty brightens at the thought of knowing something his siblings don't, and he calls out for them.

><><><><><><><

" ** _WHAT?_** "

Cordelia smiles at Michael. "I'd say Cass just found out."

Michael tips his head back and laughs.

><><><><><><><

By the time the meeting is called to order, the entire country knows.

Michael suppresses a grin at the curious looks he's getting, and can only imagine the incredulous stares Cordelia's getting, what with the half-visible hickey on her neck.

><><><><><><><

_(thirty minutes earlier)_

_"You sure?"_

_Cordelia rolls her eyes, brushing her hair back off one shoulder. "Yes," She pulls at the collar of her blouse to show the spot where shoulder and neck meet. "So hurry up and do it."_

><><><><><><><

Cass corners them after the meeting, practically vibrating with glee. "No wonder you guys kept blowing off our attempts to set you up! You were already in a relationship with  _each other_!"


	2. Summer, 1986

With summer comes America's birthday, and the inevitable July 6th get together.

Which means a week of family time. It means if they mess up, everyone will know.

><><><><><><><

"Oh, yes, please, make yourself at home in my room." The venom in Cordelia's words is palpable.

 _Maybe I shouldn't have flopped down on her bed_ , Michael thinks as he sits up. He winces at the jumble of pillows where there had been a neatly made up bed before.

He shoves the pillows back into a resemblance of order, before glancing back towards Cordelia.

The apology dies in his throat as he takes in the green two-piece swimsuit.

Somewhere, he'd known Cordelia was pretty. More than pretty. He just hadn't paid much attention to it.

_Except for that one time-_

Michael shuts that thought down before it goes any further. He doesn't need a trip down memory lane.

Cordelia pulls her hair out of the loose braid its in and shakes it out. "Ready?"

Michael stands. "Yeah."

><><><><><><><

It's stupid and impulsive, but he does it anyway.

That is calling Cordelia over, and he grabbing her ankle and pulling her into the pool when she leans over the edge.

He's fully prepared for yelling when she surfaces, wet hair plastered to her face.

But she  _laughs_.

She's still laughing when she turns to him. "You're such an  _ass_."

And Michael can't help but laugh with her.

><><><><><><><

Of course, problems arise at that night.

Cordelia and Michael realize it at the same time, when Minnie quietly says she's going to bed and grabs Austin's hand.

Neither of them is the most conservative of states, and considering their display at the meeting, Cass would definitely realize something was wrong if they went to their own bedrooms that night.

They try to put it off as long as they can, but the gig's up three hours later when Cordelia starts yawning and dozing off onto Timothy's shoulder.

Tim brushes his sister's hair back before locking eyes with Michael. "Maybe you should take Corey upstairs before she really falls asleep down here?"

Michael nods, gently rousing Cordelia and pulling her to her feet.

><><><><><><><

Cordelia is too tired to care at this point, flopping down on her bed.

She looks up when Michael doesn't join her, and snorts when she sees he's attempting to rearrange the throw pillows on her couch to be more comfortable.

She flings one of her pillows at him. "You're too tall for that. Come here."

It takes a few moments before Michael is sitting down beside her.

Cordelia nods, pleased, and slips off her denim shorts and tosses them away before crawling under the comforter.

Michael stays where he is until Cordelia begins to incessantly poke him.

He gives up then, and after Cordelia starts pinching, pulls his t-shirt over his head and drops it on the floor. He'd prefer to have more layers between them, but he can't sleep with his shirt on.

He slips under the comforter beside her, once again forcing back old memories.

Cordelia turns the lamp off, plunging her room into darkness.

Or almost darkness. Hanging above the bed, her solar system mobile spins, glowing softly.  _How very like her to paint the planets with glow in the dark paint_ , Michael thinks as he drifts off to sleep.

><><><><><><><

After the first night, it's much less awkward.

Cordelia has apparently gotten comfortable enough with him that she practically attaches herself to him when she sleeps, which was strange the first night it happened.

Michael wakes up first that morning. Cordelia's head is on his shoulder, one of her legs hooked around one of his.

He watches her mobile spin for a little while, trying to recall the names of the planets.

He feels Cordelia move and looks down just as she blinks her eyes upon. "Good morning." He tells her, attention going back to the mobile.

"Good morning." She returns.

After a moment, she notes where his attention is. "Don't judge my solar system."

"I'm not."

Cordelia makes a sound of disbelief. "Really. I'm not." Michael rolls his eyes. "I just can't remember all the planets."

Cordelia hums thoughtfully, all traces of distrust gone. "Well, from the inside working out, it's Mercury, Venus, Earth, Mars, Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus, Neptune, and Pluto. Got it?"

"Yeah, I think so."

><><><><><><><

The week of bed sharing almost goes off without a hitch.

Almost.

On the fifth night, Michael has a nightmare.

><><><><><><><

Cordelia wakes up with a start to a vise-like grip around her waist, tight enough to hurt.

She wiggles around, and when that fails to loosen Michael's grip she resorts to waking him up. "Michael."

No response. Not even a slight movement.

"Michael, you're hurting me."

His eyebrows furrow in his sleep, but he doesn't let go.

"I will hit you!"

Nothing. Cordelia sighs and punches him just below his collarbone.

"Ow, what the fuck Cordelia?!"

"You were squeezing me. It hurt. I called your name."

The anger in his eyes dims. "I'm sorry, then."

Cordelia shrugs. "It's alright." She settles back against his chest. "Wanna tell me what that was about?"

Michael avoids the question. "What what was about?"

"You've never tried to squeeze me to death in your sleep before."

He sighs. "It won't happen again."

Cordelia sits up to look him in the eyes. "I get them too, you know. The nightmares? It's okay."

Michael closes his eyes and inhales sharply.

Cordelia closes her eyes too. "Do you know what most of mine are from?"

She doesn't wait for an answer. "Do you remember the Civil War?" She shakes her head. "Of course you do. More specifically, do you remember- god I can't even remember which battle that was- anyway, do you remember that day Jackson shot Cass?"

Michael opens his eyes to stare at her. Her eyes are still closed, fists clenching the comforter.

"Well, I only remember pieces. I remember watching as Cass fell, and I could just  _feel_  she was dead before she hit the ground, and I remember feeling like I couldn't move, couldn't breathe, and her eyes were open and staring and so fucking empty and then Jackson comes and he looked so goddamned  _smug_ -"

Micheal sits up as she begins to talk faster, more agitated. He cups her cheeks until she goes quiet, peridot eyes opening. "Hey, hey, you don't have to talk about this."

Cordelia bites her lip and takes a breath.

"Jackson just looked so smug. And I remember raising my rifle, and he just looked at me and  _smirked_. And he said "You don't have it in you." I remember, in that second, thinking that he shot Cass. That he shot my little sister for no reason other than to hurt Alfred, and I could do it. I could shoot him and feel no remorse. So I did." She huffs out a laugh, and she's trembling, and Michael can't help but feel like she's on the edge of a panic attack.

"I shot a personification who looked like our father in the face at point-blank and then just walked away."

Michael swallows thickly, pulling her against him into a hug. "I know. I know, Corey. I know. I would've done the same thing. Cass is my little sister, too."

He can feel Cordelia's tears against his throat. "That's what you said then, too."

"I meant it then, and I mean it now."

><><><><><><><

( _Spring, 1864_ )

_Jackson stares at her- at the barrel of a Union-issued rifle pointing at him- for a moment before he smirks. "You don't have it in you to kill a personification."_

_All Cordelia can see is Cass, blue-grey eyes open, staring, the blood spreading across her uniform. Riley dragging her off the field, back towards the base._

_Cassie._

_She pulls the trigger and blood splatters across her face._

_And Cordelia turns and walks away, dropping her rifle as she does._

_\---------------_

_Michael never seems to knock, but Cordelia knows it's him._

_No one else has the audacity to just walk into her room like he does._

_There's a pause as he probably notes her empty room, uniform on the ground, the half-open bathroom door._

_Cordelia sinks further into the bubbly water as Michael comes in and settles himself on the floor beside the tub._

_"Dad's worried about you. Cecy told him what you did, shooting Jackson like that."_

_Cordelia ignores him, closing her eyes._

_Michael's voice softens. "She said you shot him in the face, point-blank, and then just walked away."_

_She ignores him some more. "You still have blood on your face."_

_There's a gentle touch on her cheek and her eyes fly wide open._

_Michael looks almost worried about her. "Hold on," He tells her as he gets up._

_Cordelia thinks about yelling at him as he rummages through her cabinet, but bites can't bring herself to do it, especially not after he comes back with a washcloth and settles down beside the tub once again._

_He holds her face firmly (but gently, and he hasn't been this gentle with her since the incident a few years back-) and steadily cleans Jackson's blood off her face._

_"Why?" Cordelia blurts out._

_Michael blinks, and thinks about it._

_"Because I would have done the same thing. I saw Riley carrying Cassie."_

_"You would have shot Jackson point blank in the head?"_

_Michael wipes the last of the blood splatter off her face. "It seems you and I are cut from the same cloth."_

><><><><><><><

Cordelia is practically glued to him in the morning, but Michael doesn't mind.

Last night was unexpected.

She'd told him something private without expecting him to return the gesture. She'd told him about her nightmares without asking about his own.

 _She deserves to know_.

><><><><><><><

Michael is awake already when Cordelia opens her eyes.

She offers him a small smile. "Hey."

He doesn't return it.

His jaw clenches tight before he opens his mouth.

"Mine are about the River Raisin Massacre."

Cordelia's eyes widen.

Michael gets up and goes to get ready.

><><><><><><><

Of course, that day is the day several boundaries are crossed.

If the first line was crossed that morning during the nightmare incident, the second was when Michael sarcastically called her  _cher._

><><><><><><><

Cordelia's nose wrinkles in response to the pet name. "Don't call me that. It makes me think of the singer."

Michael takes this as a challenge. "Fine."

><><><><><><><

Cordelia raises her eyebrows at  _amour_  and  _ange_ , and flat-out laughs at  _canard_.

"Did you," Laugh. "just call me," Another laugh. "your  _duck_?  _Duck_?"

Michael huffs at her, before he grins. "Cordelia means heart or something, right?"

Cordelia stops laughing at the sudden seriousness in his voice. "Cordelia's of uncertain origin, but yeah, some people think it came from Latin  _cor_  meaning "heart" or French  _coeur de lion_  meaning "heart of a lion"."

Michael stares at her. "I don't know how the hell you remember all that." He shakes his head. "Anyway, I found the perfect one."

Cordelia crosses her arms. "Yeah?"

" _Coeur_." He doesn't give her a chance to respond before he walks away.

He doesn't see the flush spreading across her face.

><><><><><><><

The third line is crossed when Cordelia leans back against his chest and he wraps his arms around her and Talia gags at the "lovey-doveyness".

><><><><><><><

Michael spends the last day at Alfred's house poking around Cordelia's room while she reads some textbook.

He smiles at the flowerpot on her dresser filled with carnation plants- they haven't bloomed yet, but he'll bet they'll all be red. There's a fluffy, cotton cloud hanging in one corner that he's pretty sure Christina made as one of her art projects. He wonders why Cordelia couldn't just get a book _case_ instead of the individual little hanging shelves as he browses her books, occasionally pulling one out and flipping through it.

He moves onto a different shelf and laughs at the eight little bobbleheads on display beside a few books.  _Riley_ , he thinks. Riley had been very fond of bobbleheads when they first got popular.  _They're her presidents,_ Michael decides, looking at them, though they all kind of look the same. Except McKinley. The McKinley one has a little red flower in its lapel.

He moves on, noting the haphazard group of hockey and lacrosse sticks and baseball bats.

He glances towards Cordelia. "Do you still play baseball?"

She looks away from her book. "Not as much as I used to, but yeah, sometimes."

Micheal nods, moving on. Then he stops. During all the time he'd been spending in her room this week, he'd never thought to ask who had painted her walls, a question he'd been meaning to ask forever.

They were painted with an intricate mural of the sky, beginning with sunrise on the right side of her door and ending with set on the left side. The colors shift so gradually it's imperceivable until you look from one side to the other and notice they're completely different colors. The mural was the reason she left as much wall space as she could visible.

"Hey, I've got a question."

"Hm?"

"Who painted your room?"

"Sera. I asked her to do one side, but we got carried away with trying to pick what kind of sky she should do." Cordelia gestures around her room. "So we did an entire day of skies."

"It's cool."

(Later, he'll bug her until she throws an astronomy atlas at him.)


	3. Autumn, 1986

With autumn comes a much-needed reprieve- the only time they have to see each other is at meetings until Halloween.

><><><><><><><

Halloween means digging through his attic until he finds old clothes that can pass for a costume.

He barely registers what time-period the ones he'd grabbed are from until Cass is grinning and shouting "We match!"

There's a solid moment where he's confused because no, they don't match, Cass is in a beaded black flapper dress and he's wearing slacks and suspenders and  _oh_.

Prohibition era. When he was rum-running and Cass was running with Capone.

"Yeah, I guess we do."

><><><><><><><

Cordelia loves Halloween. It gives her the excuse to pull out her old flight gear- the brown trousers, her leather flight jacket, her pilot goggles.

Her leather flight jacket is possibly her favorite article of clothing. It had been a statehood anniversary present from Alfred after her old one fell to bits. She'd pulled it out of the box and had nearly cried she was so happy- because it wasn't military issue. It was custom, fit to her body measurements so it wouldn't hang baggy or too tight, and made of the same dark brown leather as Al's bomber jacket. It was feminine, but it wasn't girly. It was clear it had a purpose other than looking pretty. It was completely her own, too- Davy's flight jacket was darker, closer to the military issue in style. Nate's was solid black and almost like a normal leather jacket rather than a flight one. Helena's was a light tan, almost girly in its design.

Every year, Tim rolls his eyes at her costume, but he never says anything.

><><><><><><><

"You seen Cordelia?" Michael shouts to Cass.

"Dancing with Tim, I think."

><><><><><><><

Tim is the closet state in age to her. Once, they'd been the only child states. They'd grown up together, and they were still close to this day.

Normally, Kendall would be dancing with them, but he was, as Tim put it, drunk off his ass.

Tim leans closer. "Think your boyfriend is looking for you."

><><><><><><><

"Hey." Cordelia greets with a smile, Michael wonders how much she's drunk.

Cordelia bounces up on her toes to hug him, and yep, she's definitely had a few drinks.

><><><><><><><

Michael recognizes the opening notes of Take My Breath Away, and he asks Cordelia to dance before he can really think about it.

By the time he does think about it, Cordelia's smiling and she's already said yes.

><><><><><><><

Cordelia laughs, and all Michael can think is  _fuck, I like her_.

><><><><><><><

Michael smiles and she leans forward and he looks away and suddenly she is  _very_  sober.

_Fuck. Fuck, I almost kissed him, I would have kissed him if he hadn't looked away._

Staring at Michael, Cordelia realizes something.

She had wanted to kiss him.


	4. Winter, 1986

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They're totally in denial.
> 
> Dialogue excerpt from future chapter:
> 
> "It's a peace offering. It's a cream puff from this place in Columbus-"  
> "That's not a cream puff. That's a heart attack in a takeaway box."  
> "We don't get heart attacks."  
> "Yeah, of course, you'd know that firsthand if you eat this on any kind of basis. It's half the size of your head."

Michael usually doesn't mind Christmas shopping, but Mindy is hell to shop for.

The jewelry shop is the last stop of the day, and he's fully prepared to leave another store empty-handed.

And then he sees the bracelet with charms showing the lunar phrases.

He just stares at it for a while before a clerk comes over, and then somehow he's walking out of the store with it.

><><><><><><><

He doesn't worry about it until after he gets home.

They had agreed a very long time ago that they would buy gifts for their siblings, but not for each other.

(There had been a series of gag gifts that on reflection they had agreed were not a good idea.)

What the hell was he thinking, buying this?

><><><><><><><

He eventually finds Mindy's present- a new bag for her ice skates.

In the days till he goes down to Alfred's, Cordelia's gift is wrapped and rewrapped and rewrapped again over and over.

First, it had been blue paper and a ribbon with printed silver stars, before he had wondered if the stars were too much considering what the gift was. So he'd taken off the ribbon and replaced it with a little tag bearing Cordelia's name.

After that, he'd rewrapped it so many times he'd lost count.

Today, it isn't wrapped, just tied with a pale blue ribbon.

Michael sighs and tucks it into his pocket.

><><><><><><><

 _Cordelia was waiting for him_ , Michael realizes as he sees her sitting on one of the porch banisters.

She smiles when she sees him. "Hey, my room or yours this time?"

Michael sticks his hands in his pockets. "Mine, I guess."

><><><><><><><

Clearly, there is something wrong with him, because he thinks Cordelia's stupid snoopy tank top and plaid pajama bottoms are _cute_.

><><><><><><><

Cordelia wakes up in the middle of the night, and somewhere through the sleep clouding her mind, she notes that Michael is holding her, and that it feels  _nice_.

><><><><><><><

There are shouts from throughout the house, and Cordelia smiles as Michael groans.

"Merry Christmas." She tells him, wiggling out of his arms.

His eyes open. "Merry Christmas."

><><><><><><><

He slips the box into his pajama pocket after Cordelia leaves.

><><><><><><><

Michael tugs Cordelia away from their siblings and out into the hall.

She looks at him oddly, no doubt wondering what the hell he's doing

Michael exhales shakily, reaching into his pocket and offering her the little box that had caused him so much trouble since he'd bought it on a whim.

Cordelia gives him another confused look before she unties the ribbon.

Michael looks away, only looking back at her when Cordelia inhales sharply in surprise.

"It's so pretty." She breathes.

Michael lets out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.  _She liked it_. "Do you want me to fasten it?"

Cordelia smiles, showing her dimples. "Yes."

He takes the bracelet out of the box, slipping it around the wrist she holds out.

It takes three tries to fasten the clasp because his hands are shaking.

He'd seen it in the store when he was looking for Mindy's present, and he'd remembered laying in Cordelia's bed, her solar system mobile spinning above him with Cordelia asleep against his shoulder, and the time he'd pissed her off and she flung an astronomy atlas at him. And he'd seen the bracelet, with the phases of the moon, and he'd bought it without thinking.

He finally fastens the bracelet and dares to look at Cordelia.

She smiles at him.

Michael smiles back.

And Cordelia rises up on her toes and presses a kiss to his cheek. "Thank you." She says, and goes back to the other states.

Michael stands there in shock for another minute or so.

><><><><><><><

Her hands are shaking.

She can't believe she just did that.

She kissed Michael. Voluntarily.

Well. On the cheek. But still.

What was wrong with her?


	5. Spring, 1987

Cordelia, at this point, has accepted that she likes Michael.

She's never been good at denial.

And she hopes. God, she  _hopes_  Michael will one day feel the same.

(She hopes the bracelet on her wrist means something.)


	6. Summer, 1987

Once again, it's Alfred's birthday.

Once again, Cordelia is sharing a bed with Michael.

><><><><><><><

In the night, Michael steals the covers, and Cordelia, cold, presses closer to him.

><><><><><><><

Cordelia wakes to a disgruntled Michael, the expression on his face suspiciously pouty.

"Why am I the little spoon? You're a full head shorter than me."

Cordelia glances down. "From the looks of it, because you hogged all the blankets. Blanket hoggers don't get to be the big spoon."

Michael flicks her ear in response to her haughty tone.

><><><><><><><

That morning had been... odd.

He'd woken up with Cordelia wrapped around him and he'd almost forgotten that this was not real. She didn't like him like that- she barely tolerated him most days.

Michael wonders how long it will be until they stage their breakup.

><><><><><><><

Cordelia smiles at him, and really, there's no use pretending that he doesn't like her at this point.

Not when she smiles and he kisses her and she kisses back.

"Ugh. Tone it down on the PDA. This is a zone siblings walk through. You could end up traumatizing Sasha. And also traumatizing  _me_."

Michael closes his eyes. "Riley. Go away.  _Now_."

When he opens his eyes, Cordelia smiles again, but this time it's shakier, more strained. "I guess you heard Riley before me. Quick thinking."

Michael forces a smile. "Yeah."

><><><><><><><

Michael dreams of when they were younger that night.

><><><><><><><

( _1805_ )

_Despite what Cass and Riley tell Mindy years later, they don't hate each other on sight._

_Really._

_In fact, the first time Michael meets Cordelia, when Matthew has tossed him to Alfred like a piece of junk that has outlived its use, she's the only one in the room he doesn't hate._

_Because it wasn't Cordelia who signed the Organic Act. It wasn't Cordelia who handed him to another nation without a fight. Cordelia isn't the nation claiming him._

_Cordelia is, however, the one who gives him half of her chocolate and rattles off anecdotes about the older states when the meeting runs long._

_He remembers that first meeting for a long time- Cordelia, a newly minted state, with her hair in ribbon-tied pigtails, with mud on the hem of her dress and a bright smile._

><><><><><><><

( _Summer, 1806_ )

_Their rivalry, of course, doesn't exactly begin the way Riley and Cass think it does, either._

_In fact, it begins with a stolen first kiss._

_(Cordelia's eyes were wide as she touched her mouth, and when her shock wore off, replaced by the pure fury only ten-year-old girls possess, Michael realized that perhaps he should have done that differently.)_

_When Cordelia hits him (really hard, and he could already feel the black eye forming), he hits back._

_It escalates until they're fighting viciously in the mud until they're both bloody and Alfred has to separate them._

><><><><><><><

They take refuge from the insanity that is the midwest+water guns in the library, where only insane states dare to bring in water guns.

Cordelia is the one who starts the game of twenty-questions that soon goes way past twenty.

"What's your favorite color?"

"Blue. Maybe green. Yours?"

Cordelia thinks for a moment. "Probably my flag colors."

Michael raises his eyebrows at her. "Okay, but if you had to pick one of them."

"Red," She says after a moment. "Or blue. I like blue."

The fact that red is her favorite color shouldn't be surprising, not with her red flower clip holding back her bangs, and Cardinals and Ladybugs as state symbols, but somehow it is.

They get through a bunch of favorite questions- animal, book, movie, ice cream, candy, etc.- before he asks something different.

"So what happened when you and Will broke up? The last time?"

He'd thought they'd keep up the hot-cold routine forever, but then they break up, don't speak for like two months, and next thing you know, Will's gone and hooked up with Brooke.

Cordelia's smile has gone fragile.

Michael shifts uncomfortably. "You don't have to answer that."

Cordelia nods, relief bleeding into her smile.

They sink back into less personal questions, up until Michael gets brave again and says "Tell me a secret."

"I have a degree in rhetoric and journalism."

Michael blinked. And then blinked again.

"What?"

Cordelia shrugs. "When you spend a decade analyzing letters for double meanings you get pretty good with words. Who knew, right? Your turn. Tell me a secret."

 _I think I'm falling in love with you and it scares the hell out of me_. "I once kept a deer as a pet because I thought it was too cute to get shot during hunting season."

><><><><><><><

"Why are we spying on our siblings?"

Cass sighs happily. "Because look how cute together they are."

Ty frowns. "Yeah, so cute it makes me want to throw up."

Mindy clears her throat awkwardly. "...Right, well, I've got a date so like... bye. Have fun invading Corey and Michael's privacy."

Riley rolls his eyes at all of them and glances back at Corey and Michael.

He'd had his doubts originally, but they had something  _real_.

><><><><><><><

Cordelia's pretty sure Michael is actively trying to kill her.

It starts when she wakes up to one of Michael's hands on her stomach where her shirt had ridden up, his legs tangled with hers, and his face nuzzled against her neck.

After managing to slip out of his grip, she took a shower, put on her favorite pair of shorts and a t-shirt that was just the right amount of worn. When she'd gone back in her room to retrieve her hairbrush, she stopped dead in her tracks to take in the adorable/sexy sight that is Michael in the morning.

Cordelia knew Michael slept without a shirt.

But she'd never cared before.

 _Maybe_ , she decides,  _she should have paid a bit more attention to him in the morning_. Michael's dirty-blonde curls are a sleep-tangled, ruffled mess, and Cordelia would compare him to Michelangelo's  _David_  except that isn't quite right- Michael is more relaxed.

 _He's beautiful_ , she realizes.  _He's beautiful, and I love him_.

If she was a century-and-a-half younger, she would have kissed him senseless right about now.

Instead, she snaps herself out of her daze, glad that Michael hadn't noticed her staring at him like a lovestruck pre-teen, and goes to talk to Timothy.

><><><><><><><

Timothy must see the panic beginning to rise in her eyes, because he gets up from where he was sitting beside Kendall, being all couple-y without argument.

He grabs Cordelia's hand, leads her into his room and locks the door behind him.

"Talk." He says, and she does.

She spills the whole story, from the failed matchmaking to the deal to her own feelings.

By the end, Timothy's head is in his hands.

"Cordelia, you're such an  _idiot_."

_> <><><><><><><_

Cordelia slips quietly into the seat beside him at lunch, and Michael smiles at her. "Hey, where'd you go this morning? You just kind of disappeared."

Cordelia doesn't meet his gaze. "I told Tim."

"...about us?" Or the lack there of, more accurately.

She nods, and Michael closes his eyes and leaves.

><><><><><><><

"I don't understand why you're so mad."

"What happens when Tim tells Kendall?"

"Tim wouldn't do that." Cordelia's eyes show uncertainty, and Michael knows she's thinking about how Timothy and Kendall tell each other  _everything_.

"Then it'll get out, and Cass and Riley will not only try to set us up again, they'll be pissed that we  _lied_  to them."

This such a stupid situation- fake relationship, one-sided real feelings. And Michael is always on edge, afraid he'll slip up and he just  _can't_.

So instead of handling this minor disagreement, he walks away and lets it fester.

><><><><><><><

The rest of the week is spent in stormy silence and distance.

(Scarlett, who never talks to Cordelia, approaches her to comfort her. "Fights are always awful," She said right before she had hugged Cordelia. "But I'm sure you guys can work it out.")

Michael moves back to his room at one point without a word.

(Aidan gave him a sympathetic smile. "Sucks being in the doghouse. You get used to someone sleeping beside you.")

><><><><><><><

It's two weeks after the states go home that Michael comes home one day to find Cordelia sitting on his front steps, a box balanced on her knees.

She's been biting her lip, he notes, and almost hits himself for noticing  _that_  of all things.

"You don't keep your key in the same place."

Michael pauses where he was about to unlock the door before continuing the motion. "Cass used them a few too many times."

Cordelia nods.

Michael swallows. "I keep them in the flowerpot now. Under the red flower."

Cordelia's eyes snap up to meet his, startled that he'd tell her.

She follows him in quietly, setting the box on the table.

Michael nods towards it. "What's that?"

"It's a peace offering. It's a cream puff from this place in Columbus-" Michael opens it as she talks.

And stares. "Cordelia."

"Yes?"

"That's not a cream puff. That's a heart attack in a takeaway box."

Cordelia looks almost affronted at the insult to her so-called peace offering. "We don't get heart attacks."

"Yeah, of course, you'd know that firsthand if you eat this on any kind of basis.  _It's half the size of your head_. Sometimes I wonder how you aren't dead yet from the amount of sugar and caffeine you eat."

Cordelia huffs. "Fine. I'll just take it and go, if it's so  _unhealthy._ "

She reaches for the box and Michael bats her hands away. "Nope. No take backs."

Cordelia gives him a glare that clearly translates to something very rude.

Michael grins.

She rolls her eyes and smiles back.

Michael bites his cheek for a moment before speaking. "It isn't just your fault. I overreacted."

"It's okay."

"No, it isn't. Let me make it up to you."

After a second, Cordelia nods.

><><><><><><><

Michael leads Cordelia through a whirlwind tour of the Detriot food scene. (Though they did go outside of Detriot for paczkis, because he was pretty sure Cordelia would love them.)

Afterwards, they sit in Michael's living room, watching  _The Black Cauldron_  because they couldn't agree on anything that wasn't Disney, surrounded by the various food they had gotten.

Michael is trying very hard not to focus on the way Cordelia's calf is pressed against his own.

"Why's it called a Boston Cooler?" Cordelia asks, providing a distraction.

"Because-" Michael stops. "You know, I don't actually know."

Originally, he'd just meant to get pizza, and then he'd thought about Boston Coolers, and then baklava from Greektown, and by that point it was a food tour and Michael decided it was go big or go home.

And so far, it had gone exceptionally well. (Except for when he kind of insulted Ohio-style pizza, which was a mistake because states are  _loyal_  to their pizzas, but really. It was a disgrace to regional pizzas.)

"I'll have to get you to try Cleveland-style barbecue sometime."

Michael glances over at Cordelia. She's looking at him with thoughtful green eyes, and  _damn_ , he wants to kiss her.

"What?"

She nods at the paczkis on the table. "I'm trying to decide where we ought to go for my whirlwind food scene tour."

Which means she had liked spending time with him enough that she wanted to do it  _again_. Michael grins at the thought. "As long as we get to get pierogies in... what city is it that does the really good ones, again?"

Cordelia looks both pleased and startled at the fact he even remembered she had a city that did good pierogies. "Parma."

"Right. Well, if you do your pierogies, I'll have to take you to Mackinac Island. Amazing fudge."

The fact that they're basically planning dates doesn't escape either of their notice.

"Jack Frost donuts is a must then." Michael opened his mouth only to be cut off when Cordelia continued. "And Polish Boys."

Honestly, Michael is so glad he stops to think before he says something stupid. "...the thing with the french fries, right?"

"Yep."

Michael nods, and then does something  _very_  stupid.

"Do you want to come to Cherry Festival with me next year?"

Cordelia goes still.

 _Oh, fuck_ , Michael thinks,  _I just asked her on a date_.

She smiles. "I'd like that." She shifts awkwardly. "Um, would you wanna come to the Circleville Pumpkin show? It's in October."

 _Did she ask him on a date, or was she just continuing their whirlwind food tours?_  "Yes. I- I'd like that."

><><><><><><><

Timothy sighs as the phone continues to ring before gently moving the arm Kendall wrapped around him and getting up.

"Corey. Do you even know what time it is?"

"I think I just asked Michael on a date."

"...I'm sorry,  _what_?"

"But I think he asked me out first??? Wait, did today count as a date? What's the definition of a date, Tim?"

"I am not following this conversation at all."

"I think that milkshakes would definitely equate to dates. Or is that only if you share a milkshake?"

"Shouldn't you know what a date is by now? You're like two-hundred something."

Silence.

Right. Cordelia had a total of one serious relationship, and back then dating was completely different.

"I think you both have to know its a date for it to be a date. Like, know explicitly." Timothy adjusts the phone. "And where exactly did you ask him on a date to?"

"Circleville Pumpkin show."

Timothy nods. "Alright. Go on a parade day."

"What am I supposed to wear?"

"I don't know. Call Cass."


	7. Autumn, 1987

She feels jittery.

Nervous.

She  _never_  feels nervous, let alone  _jittery_.

And she definitely never paces, and yet that's what she's doing.

Which is ridiculous, because what does she have to feel nervous about?

For one, her hair was perfect- neatly done in a half-up-half-down style with a braided crown [[x]](https://www.pinterest.com/pin/607423068467460528/), her signature carnation clip pinned where the braids met at the back instead of in her bangs.

Secondly, she knows she looks amazing. She was in her favorite dress [[x]](https://www.pinterest.com/pin/607423068467460530/)\- black lace that had never failed her. Not that she usually needed help with men. Usually, she smiled and they tripped over themselves trying to find a way into her bed. Which sounds vain, but it's true.

Thirdly, she'd slipped on her leather jacket. It was practically a lucky charm.

Cordelia's eyes catch on her wrist where she had fastened the bracelet Michael had given her and she practically  _melts_.

 _Get it together_ , she tells herself firmly. _Not a real date_.

><><><><><><><

 _God is obviously punishing me for being a horrible Catholic. Well. Majority Protestant these days. So, he's punishing me for being a horrible Protestant_ , Micheal thinks as forces himself to meet Cordelia's eyes instead of her cleavage.

Both because it was horribly rude (Alfred beat manners into all of them.) and because Cordelia wouldn't hesitate to call him out on it.

She'd already done it once today to some guy. (Michael was going to pretend his anger was righteous fury on behalf of a fellow state, and not jealousy.)

"-anyway, so pumpkin donuts?"

Michael blinked.  _When did she start talking? Fuck, have I just been staring off into space for the last minute?_  "Um, sure."

Apparently, that's the right answer, because Cordelia smiles and grabs his hand to lead him to a line. (Apparently, he'd agreed to pumpkin donuts. It could have been worse.)

Michael takes a moment to properly realign their hands so it's less of an awkward  _follow-me_ grab and more of a hand-holding type of thing. (Vaguely, he realizes that his eleven-year-old self would be disgusted with his "sappy-ness" and the fact that he wants to hold hands with  _Cordelia_. On the other hand, his ten-year-old self would be screaming at the top of his lungs in happiness. And his fifteen-year-old self...well. He'd rather not. They kind of balance each other out.)

"You okay?"

He refocuses on Cordelia.  _Got to stop zoning out_. "Yeah. I'm good."

><><><><><><><

The not-date goes pretty well.

They'd watched the parade and eaten a lot of pumpkin-flavored foods, Michael had an internal nervous meltdown about whether or not he should be offering to pay ("...Why? I'm the one who invited you over?").

><><><><><><><

Michael smiles at Cordelia. "Well, I better get going if I'm going to make it home at a reasonable time."

"You could stay with me?" It comes out as a question, not an offer.

Internally, Cordelia dies of embarrassment. Externally, she keeps a smile on her face.

After a moment of hesitation, Michael nods. "Okay."

><><><><><><><

Michael sleeps in the guest room, despite the fact that they both wish otherwise.

><><><><><><><

(At the Halloween party there is an incident where Michael gets completely drunk and kisses her shamelessly in the kitchen. He doesn't remember it in the morning- isn't even aware it occurred until Ty mentions it in passing. Michael's horrified and apologizes profusely. Cordelia's a little glad no one told him about the hand that had been a little too low on her back to be innocent.)

><><><><><><><

(During Thanksgiving, Cordelia dabs whipped cream onto Michael's face and then has the pure audacity to  _kiss_  it off. Michael's face is crimson for a solid thirty minutes.)


	8. Winter, 1987

Christmas goes off without a hitch.

(Well, if the fact that Michael almost died of a heart attack the day Cordelia stole one of his sweaters and wore it all day can be considered "going off without a hitch.")


	9. Winter, 1988

The day before Michael's birthday, he gets a box in the mail.

_\---------------_

"Cordelia-"

" _DON'T OPEN THE BOX YET!_ "

"...what?"

"Forgot to write that on it. It's a birthday present. Meaning you can't open it until your birthday."

"What is it?"

He could practically hear her frown. "It's a surprise."

"I hate surprises."

"Too bad. Suck it up."

_\---------------_

He doesn't have a clue on what it could be.

If it was anyone else, he would have already opened it.

But it's Cordelia, and she always seemed to know about these types of things. Plus, she still had that frying pan around there somewhere.

><><><><><><><

Michael will never admit to being a little excited when January 26th rolls around.

He cuts the tape on the package, grinning at the buckeyes on top. She never missed a chance to make them, it seemed.

There's a smaller package underneath the buckeyes.

_\---------------_

It's a windchime.

Made of sea-glass and Petoskey stones and Isle Royale Greenstone, and there's no way Cordelia could have found this in a store. She always was into all that DIY stuff.

_\---------------_

Cordelia calls him an hour later. "Do you like it?"

"I like it. How long did it take you?"

"About a week. I was bored. Had a bunch of sea-glass lying around."

_\---------------_

(Michael hangs it on his porch that day.)


	10. Spring, 1988

When they have a state of the union meeting in April, Cordelia wears the scarf he sent her for her birthday- it's patterned with little cardinals, and it was a pain to find, but he doesn't regret it one bit.

They eat out with Cass, Riley, and Ty after the meeting, and when Cordelia's hand brushes against his, he takes the opportunity to interlace their fingers.

Cass sighs happily, like a little girl watching Cinderella marry the prince. Riley's expression is more of the 'ew PDA' type. Ty looks like he might be traumatized.

Cordelia grins at Michael, eyes flicking to their disgusted brothers, and presses a quick kiss to his cheek.

Ty and Riley look horrified.


	11. Summer, 1988

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize in advance for a sucky chapter; Warnings for brief, non-explicit before-after scenes

Summer comes with painful anticipation for the Cherry Festival, for their almost-date.

(They both count the days.)

><><><><><><><

Cordelia can't stop smiling.

When she looks over at Michael, and realizes he's been looking at her, she completely disregards any sort of sense and kisses him.

She kisses him, and everything clicks into place as he kisses her back.

_\---------------_

They stumble through his doorway, and Cordelia laughs as he kisses her neck.

She pauses to kick off her flats and start undoing the buttons on his shirt before she kisses him again. Her fingers tangle into his hair, tugging lightly and his hair is probably an absolute mess and he doesn't care.

He pushes the strap of her dress down, kissing at her collarbone.

She shivers, head tipping back.

Michael doesn't immediately register that he just called her  _Corey_  in between kisses.

Cordelia stills. "You... you called me Corey. You haven't called me Corey in  _decades_."

Longer than that. Since before the Civil War.

When did he stop-

(" _Corey, tell me you didn't get back together with him. Please_.")

Oh.

 _Right_.

Michael exhales. "...You know, I never understood why you got back together that first time."

Cordelia's eyes go cold and he almost slaps himself.

In the two years they've been... whatever they've been doing, the only thing mentioning Will and their many breakups had gotten Michael was Cordelia going silent.

But he pushes it again, because this is a question that has baffled him for over a century.

"Why did you go back to him?"

Cordelia closed her eyes. "Will and I.... we were something. It was good and then it wasn't good, but it was always something. And we did love each other. Maybe too much. Maybe not enough. It's hard to explain."

Michael frowns. "We... we were something."

(It sounds pathetic, even to his own ears, and he winces.)

Cordelia frowns, too. "We didn't love each other."

"But maybe we could have."

Cordelia freezes, and it's so odd to see her close herself off when only minutes before she was laughing as he kissed her throat. "If you had really believed that, you would have asked me to stay back then. But you didn't."

"That isn't fair, Corey, I was  _fifteen_."

"Yeah, well I was fifteen too, and  _you didn't love me_."

Michael bites out a retort before he thinks about the consequences. "You act like it was my fault, but I wasn't the one taking virginities from my rebounds."

Cordelia stares at him. He watches the emotions flicker over her face. Shock, and then fury. "I don't remember you complaining very much." She says in that sickly sweet tone she uses on Will when he pisses her off.

(She hasn't used it on him in years.)

She pushes him away, fixing the straps of her dress. "You know what? I don't think I want to date you, or fake-date you or what the hell ever anymore."

Michael blinks. "What?"  _Wait._ She yanks her flats back on, snatching her bag from the coffee table.

"I'm  _done_."

The door shuts behind her, and Michael slumps against the wall. "Fuck. _Fuck_."

><><><><><><><

( _Autumn, 1827_ )

_Cordelia and Will become Cordelia-and-Will in September of 1827._

_Oddly enough, it starts with a panic attack._

_Will gets locked in a closet. Cordelia lets him out._

_And when Will starts to hyperventilate, Cordelia kisses him._

_\---------------_

_Will's eyes are wide when she pulls away, but at least he isn't hyperventilating._

_He looks somewhat dazed, actually. "What?"_

_Cordelia moves further away. "Um. People who are having panic attacks usually feel like they can't get enough air but really it's the opposite and they have too much and when you kiss someone you hold your breath and lets the carbon dioxide to oxygen ratio equal out-"_

_"You're rambling."_

_Cordelia shuts her mouth. "Sorry."_

_Will studies her face. "Don't be."_

_(A week later, he gives her a single, perfect red carnation and asks her out._

_She says yes.)_

><><><><><><><

( _Early Spring, 1833_ )

_They fight, and it's like the world is ending._

_They are too much everything and not enough anything for each other at the same time. Will is charming and older and brilliant, Cordelia is bright and confident and young. Will is snappy and sarcastic, Cordelia is clingy and emotional._

_And then one day they fight, and it's over, five years forgotten in the heat of the argument._

><><><><><><><

( _Late Spring, 1833_ )

_Word travels fast amongst states, and soon they all know that Cordelia and Will have broken up._

_Alfred welcomes Cordelia back home with open arms._

><><><><><><><

( _Early Summer, 1833_ )

_"Oh, fuck off." Cordelia says in response to his latest insult, and next thing either of them know they're kissing._

_(And oddly, this has happened before. The first time, they were just growing into their teenage bodies. Cordelia had kissed him or he had kissed her, but that had been painful and unpleasant- they had clacked teeth and heads and in the end, he accidentally pulled Cordelia's hair and she had shoved him away and stormed off. Now, making out wasn't a common way to end their fights, but it wasn't exactly a rarity either.)_

_But it has been a while since it last happened._

_They still fight, of course, but Cordelia was dating Will and she had never even considered unfaithfulness._

_(But Cordelia and Will are broken up now.)_

_They're too loud to be doing this in a hallway, Michael realizes, and tugs Corey towards his room._

_The door closes behind them and Michael presses Corey into his door, kissing her hard, rough- their teeth clack together once before Corey is tilting her head and changing the angle._

_She is warm and making these breathy little noises, and this has happened before, he knows what to expect with this- making out in his room for a while before one of them manages to make the other angry enough to leave. (There had been a few memorable occasions where it had gone differently. A few times, he'd managed to get his hand up her shirt. Once, she'd wrapped her legs around his waist and twisted her hips just so.)_

_And today, she's pulling her shirt over her head and tossing it across the room and he's left staring helplessly at her stays as she sits on the edge of his bed._

_Michael swallows._

_He squeezes his eyes shut and consigns himself to the fact that this is probably going to be embarrassing, and Corey's probably going to laugh at him._

_"Um- Corey- I- well, I-"_

_Corey frowned, pausing the attempts to get her stays off. "Spit it out already." The ties on her stays are trying her patience. It doesn't help to ease Michael's nerves, and he considers not telling her, but she would figure it out soon enough..._

_He mumbles something vaguely reminiscent of a sentence._

_"What?"_

_Michael inhales shakily. "I've never- well-" He nodded at Corey._

_Corey's confused for a moment after that, before her eyes widen in realization. "You're a virgin." She tilts her head. "You know, that makes so much sense."_

_Michael frowns._

_Corey winces. "...I didn't mean that the way it sounded, swear. It's alright- just means you've got room for... growth." She looks at him thoughtfully. "How much of a virgin are you, though?"_

_Michael flushes. Corey grins like the cat that got the canary, and motions for him to come over._

_He does, and his eyes widen as Corey pushes him down on the bed, straddling his hips, pushing her hair back over her shoulder. Her bare shoulder- seems she had gotten her stays off after all._

_She kisses his cheek. "Lesson one- clothes come off. All of them, preferably."_

_He flicks her ear in response._

_\---------------_

_It had been a little strange, peeling off his clothes with Corey not even bothering to hide the fact that she was looking at him._

_It helped when Corey started kissing him again, easing them back into their earlier position. Still- his hands stayed firmly on her waist- straying no further down or up._

_Now, with the way she's just staring at him, he's getting a little anxious again._

_Her hands cup his cheeks, thumbs brushing his cheekbones. "Your eyes are different colors. This one," she tapped on his right cheekbone. "Is bluer, and this one is more violet."_

_He looked towards the wall, the only place that was safe to stare at. "Yeah."_

_"Hey, don't sound so sad about it, I think they're really beautiful."_

_Michael stared at her to see if she was joking, but there was nothing but honesty on her face._

_He nods, and Corey decides to make him uncomfortable again._

_"So, you've really never done_ _ anything _ _? Nothing?"_

_He looks at her, pointedly glancing down at her chest for a moment._

_Corey's eyes widen. "What, you mean that time you felt me up was the only thing you've ever done? But you're decent-looking, girls should have been falling all over you!" She frowned. "Well, at least until you scared them away with your personality."_

_Michael frowns at her and pinches her hip hard._

_"Kidding. You've got an alright personality."_

_Corey laughs at the disgruntled expression on his face, and kisses him so hard he forgets to be annoyed._

_\---------------_

_There is a moment just before, when Corey threads her fingers through his hair as she kisses him and he can't keep his hands off of her and he can feel every single gasp and shudder and Corey pulls away and says, come on, you won't hurt me._

_\---------------_

_In the afterglow,_ _Michael lets himself bonelessly collapse onto Corey._

_She indulges him for awhile, carding her fingers through his hair, humming some German folk song she must have picked up from her people._

_The second he starts to drift off, however, Corey starts pushing him away._

_"Stay still. I'm sleeping."_

_Corey squirms. "You're heavy and I'm sticky and I'm not sleeping like this."_

_With a sigh, Michael flops back onto his back, letting Cordelia get up._

_She comes back in one of his flannel pajama tops, with the pants and a towel in her hand, both of which she promptly tosses at him._

_Michael eyes her, noting that she hasn't moved to get back into bed._

_Please don't leave, he thinks, almost desperately._

_He pulls the pajama pants on and tosses the towel, and then_ _pulls Corey down beside him, tucking her against his chest._

_Corey sighs in contentment and rests her head against his collarbone. Michael wraps an arm around her back._

_He's half asleep when Corey speaks. "Was it good for you?"_

_Michael nods, sleepy and satiated and warm. "And you?" He wasn't vain enough to think he was the best she'd ever had, but hopefully, it was at least good. (He'd finished before her, but she had assured him that it was okay, and guided him through the motions, so she had eventually finished too but what if it hadn't been okay-)_

_Corey hums in agreement._

_(She's still there in the morning, and he drags himself out of bed as quietly as possible and steals a few of the crepes Evangeline had made. Corey probably wakes up because she can smell the sugar, and really it's a wonder she isn't dying of sugar overdose and/or a thousand pounds at this point. He says this, and Corey grins and licks powdered sugar off her fingers until he's cherry red and laughs at him because she's actually evil.)_

_\---------------_

_Really, it probably should have ended there._

_But it doesn't._

_(And maybe, Michael lets himself get to attached to Corey, too used to her crashing in his room and vice versa, too used to her stealing his pajama tops because she says he never uses them anyway. Maybe, Cordelia lets herself cling to Michael, lets herself fall into their easy banter and teasing.)_

><><><><><><><

( _Late Summer, 1833_ )

_It all falls apart when Will asks her to think about it, about them, one more time._

_\---------------_

_Afterward, when the afterglow is fading and Michael is halfway asleep, she sighs. "Will wants to try again."_

_Michael blinks, suddenly very awake. "What, like get back together?"_

_She nods. "I don't know what to do."_

_(And he thinks, for a brief moment, that's she's asking him to give her a reason to say no.)_

_"...I don't know what you should do, either."_

_\---------------_

_Cordelia focuses on the facts._

_One: Will loves her, and she loves him, and some part of her will always love him._

_Two: Michael may care about her, but he doesn't love her, not like that._

_Three: She doesn't love Michael._

_Four: There is a gnawing ache in her chest that hasn't gone away since Will and her had broken up._

_(The choice is obvious, simple.)_

_\---------------_

_(There is a moment where Cordelia thinks that she chose wrong.)_

_Michael corners her against the kitchen corner_ _, the edge digging into her back when she leans away._

 _And Micheal's eyes, his_ _beautiful, beautiful eyes look like they're cracking when she nods her head._

_He turns and leaves her, and she slides down the counter to the floor and wills the tears out of her eyes._

_(He never calls her Corey again.)_

_\---------------_

_(They never speak of that summer again.)_

><><><><><><><

( **Summer, 1988** )

"What the hell happened?" Cass asks as once again, Cordelia and Michael see each other and go in opposite directions.

"I don't know."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't even know what happened to this.
> 
> For clarification, Cordelia and Will dated. When they broke up, she had a fling with Michael. Later, Will asked her to try again and she said yes because she knew there were no real feelings between her and Michael. (aka this is where those old memories come in.)
> 
> I will try and make the rest better.


	12. Autumn, 1988

They don't speak to each other. 

Cordelia pulls away from the other states, enrolls in classes at Ohio State and throws herself into a physics degree. 

Michael, on the other hand, starts avoiding his younger (prying, nosy) siblings and hanging out with Hadley and Toby.

And life goes on.


	13. Winter, 1988

Christmas is strained between the midwest. 

_\---------------_

"We have to do  _something_." Cass says. 

Riley shoots her a look. "Don't screw with their lives, Cass."

Mindy nods solemnly from where she sits with her legs crisscrossed. "They have to figure this out themselves."

Ty sighs. "Great. We'll be here until the tricentennial."


	14. Winter, 1989

(Cordelia dials half of Michael's number in excitement when she gets her exam scores back in January.)

><><><><><><><

(Michael almost throws away the wind-chime, until he gets distracted by the way one of the pieces of sea-glass looks like watered-down peridot. Which makes him think about Cordelia.)

><><><><><><><

(During the state of union meeting in March, Michael turns to say something sarcastic to Cordelia, and then realizes that Mindy's sitting next to him, and Cordelia's halfway across the room.)


	15. Spring, 1989

It is spring before Michael thinks  _fuck it_.

He misses Cordelia and her stupid snoopy pajamas and obsession with space and her sugar addiction.

He messed up, he needs to fix it.

Michael hopes that Cordelia is willing to fix it too.

_\---------------_

It's incredibly awkward sitting on Cordelia's front porch.

Obviously, she isn't home.

Two hours later, he must look so pitiful that Cordelia's neighbor takes pity.

"She's at the school, boy."

Michael's head turns toward her so fast he thinks he hears something crack. "What?"

"Ohio State. The University?"

\---------------

The student blinks. "Cordelia Jones? You mean the hot TA?"

Michael stares. " _What_."

The student shifts uncomfortably under his glare. "Astronomy. Um, I think she's on the softball team? You could try there?"

><><><><><><><

The softball hits the bat with a sharp crack, almost like thunder, and Michael could recognize Cordelia's effortless swing anywhere.

Cordelia tosses the bat to the person waiting and yanks off her helmet.

It takes a lot of courage to stay still when she begins walking towards him.

And then Cordelia is standing in front of him, hair messed up from the helmet, green eyes furious-

"You're hot when you're pissed off."

Cordelia's eyes widen, startled, and  _fuck_ , he said that out loud.

First words he says to her in almost half a year, and it's  _that_.

"Ignore that. Just forget this ever happened. I'm going to go throw myself in Lake Erie now, bye-"

"Michael."

He freezes.

"Do whatever you came here to do."

Michael swallows and turns back around.

"I... I'm sorry about last July."

Cordelia's eyes soften, most of that fury draining away, and he wonders how much of it was false bravado. She sighs. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry too."

 _And here is the part where things get awkward_ , Michael thinks. "I don't want to go back to what we were before last July."

Cordelia takes a step closer, close enough that he could kiss her if he just leaned forward a little. She crosses her arms, helmet still dangling from one hand. "Then what do you want?"

(Sometimes, all you need is twenty seconds of insane courage.)

Michael meets her eyes. "You."  _Always you_. He lifts a hand to cup her face deliberately slowly- so that she can move away if she wants.

She doesn't.

If anything, Cordelia leans into his palm.

There's a beat of silence before Cordelia speaks. "You should kiss me right now."

He does.

It isn't the nicest kiss or best kiss they'd ever had, but it promises that there will be more kisses, more time.

He rests his forehead against Cordelia's when they separate.

"Your teammates are staring."

"I don't care."

Michael huffs out a laugh, and kisses her again.


	16. Summer, 1989 (Epilogue)

Sometimes, Cordelia can't believe this is real.

That Michael really is curled up with her on the sofa, watching stupid informercials at one in the morning because neither of them can bring themselves to get up and risk losing the peaceful, calm atmosphere. 

And when Michael tells her he loves her for the first time, she expects to hear the blare of her alarm clock any second. 

(The alarm clock doesn't go off.)

So she tangles their fingers together and tells him that she loves him too. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry- It's probably too sappy (and a little rushed).


End file.
